Cailín (Lass) (Anam Céile Chronicles) Read online

  “Aislinn?”

  I looked up at her, forcing a small smile. “Indeed, Deirdre, sure I be you speak the truth. Do tell me more,” I bade sombrely, me belly twisting up as the branches of an old tree.

  With not a notice of me tone, she went on keenly, “Alright, then repeat these words with me:

  “Moon, moon, tell unto me

  When my true love I shall see?

  What fine clothes am I to wear?

  How many children shall I bear?

  For if my love comes not to me

  Dark and dismal my life will be.”

  Ugh! Precisely!

  To be that pitiful, swooning lass I do not aspire! Dark and dismal me life will be if not able to bear me music! To cast aside fine clothes to delight in running free, barefooted through the meadows so that the wildflowers may tickle me ankles with their kisses of morning dew! That be whence the light will illuminate me life!

  “Now, we each are to cut with this black-hafted knife, three pieces of clay from the sod, and carry them home to tie them up in our left stocking with our right garter, and place it under the pillow upon which we sleep . . .”

  The skeptical stare plastered upon me face interrupted her again.

  “Aislinn, please do at least attempt to take this seriously, lest the sidhe play tricks upon you for your disagreeable manners!”

  I affected another apologetic look at her, praying she would just continue, to be finished with this nonsense presently.

  “During which . . .” Deirdre lingered on so as to heighten the significance of the outcome of this curse we have so foolishly called upon “. . . we shall dream a true dream of the men we are fated to marry!”

  Oh fer Bliss! Well certainly pleased I be to hear one of us be fervent about our encountering the same fated doom that awaited hordes of those condemned to be born as females since the dawn of man!

  We jaunted back to the house, and slipped in as quietly as giggling lasses are able. Nonetheless, we were met inside by me aunt, who greeted us with a nauseatingly sweet knowing smile. “Sweet Dreams . . .” she cooed, patting our bottoms as she shooed us off to bed.

  “You must remember each detail of your dream, so that you may share it with me come morn!” Deirdre directed, her enthusiasm harmonizing with the yellow glow that always did surround her.

  “Oh shall I! And you, as well!” as I feigned to imitate the same enthusiasm to her.

  The dreams which did arise in me slumber that night should have been to me chagrin; rather they were considerably to me mystified amazement.

  At first, I dreamt of playing me fiddle whilst dancing through me valley of flowers. As always it does, the music overtook me, gently carrying me away upon its melodic stream of beautiful colours.

  And then, still the ceil be there, although ‘twas in the background, as though someone else did play it, and I be lying in the grass beside a tranquil murmuring brook. The music sang in me head as the warming rays from the sun saturated me flesh.

  A long moment me eyes had been closed, reveling in the overall sense of serenity as I lie there. Then, as though something willed them to open, so they did, to set their gaze upon the most exquisite image ever I will behold.

  Fer there a young man did sit, kneeling over, and gazing upon me. His a face I would never forget, were I to live an eternity. Each and every element of it beholding the utmost of delightful perfection in me eyes.

  Framed by lush, tousled curls of chocolate brown, his flawless fair skin presented sculpted delicate ears, an angular jawline, and a proud chin; dense, dark eyebrows shadowing the tenderness in his deep blue eyes which gleamed as sapphires, and luxuriantly edged with sable lashes; an imperfect, yet handsome nose, and the sweetest, most modest smile upon his pale pink lips. The genuine light from that enchanting smile infiltrated into me soul instantaneously, where it has forevermore remained with me.

  Each contour of his face etched upon me memory eternally and enduringly carved into me soul. In me dreams I have seen it each night ever since.

  In me conscious mind, I longed to speak, longed fer him to utter a sound back to me. Desperate I be to perceive the resonance of his voice. Though, in me dream, none of this seemed to matter. Quite contented were we merely to sit gazing upon each other in a relaxed sense of wonderment.

  Most agitated I be to awaken, me skin moistened by perspiration, and me belly gurgling in protest of its mounting hunger. I strained to will meself back to sleep quickly so that I might continue me dream where I had been crudely wrenched away. Gloomily, return to me dreams of him that night, I did not.

  And though I did not, his face be the first image in me mind when in the morn I awoke. As though in a daze, I laid there in bed stunned, reflecting upon me dream. Scarcely able to believe I had dreamt of such a thing.

  Have I really dreamt of that? Me, the girl whom I pride meself to be, would not entertain such blind, idealistic thoughts of love. Still, the thought of him I cannot dismiss from me mind, the image of his gentle face. Oh the ways that face has elicited from me body to feel, the response those eyes have at present called forth from me soul.

  Perhaps he will be different from most men . . . Then, be that even possible? Oh! What does this mean fer me? Can I truly even consider such a thing? Dismiss all I be directly fer the uncertainty of a fortuitous dream?

  As I laid there, struggling with me own mind, I could not deny the inexplicable certainty I had: this lad be meant to be mine. Though understand it not one bit did I, in me mind I knew it. With every fragment of me being, I felt it.

  He is to be mine, and I his.

  And in that moment, everything in me transformed. Never would I be the same.

  I heard Deirdre stirring in the bed next to me and braced meself fer her zealous tackle. She would probe me, “Well?! Did you dream of him?! Pray tell me all about it!” And quite honestly, so pleasantly astounded I be that not all that sure I be what I would say to her. Not really certain whether I be prepared to share me beloved apparition; fer perhaps if I spoke of him, he would not come to me after all . . .

  So, then, much to me surprise ‘twas, when she did not shake me upon waking, beseeching me to exchange tales with her of what had materialized during our slumbers. Rather, unexpectedly morose she appeared, seeming not to wish even discuss it.

  Not sure whether I should enquire or not, I whispered earnestly, “Deirdre, I do apologise fer me ill-mannered behaviour last night. Truly fun ‘twas, after all. You may tell me of yer dream, if you wish,” I encouraged her.

  “Oh Aislinn!” she cried, opening herself to me to reveal the misery she felt. “An appalling confession I must make! This actually was not my first time acting out the moon love charm. Last year I did, and when I did favour not he whom came to me in my dreams that night, I determined it was a dreadful chance happening, and refused to consider.”

  Seeing the puzzlement upon me face, she sighed and continued, “And it was one and the same lad once more in my dream last night,” she paused as she gathered the courage necessary to utter the name. “Fergus Mulroney.”

  Me eyes widened in shock. “Fergus Mulroney?”

  Poor Deirdre, destined to marry that bothersome lad, the very one who has pestered her ever since a small lass she be.

  Always the same interactions I had beheld: her screeching at him to leave her be, and his continuance of the same provocations with a leering grin in response.

  Suppose now I surely should not divulge to her me shockingly delightful dream.

  And ‘twas then she halfheartedly remembered to ask, “And what of you? Anything?”

  I feigned disappointment as I sighed, “Nothing then. Alas, I always knew I be destined fer an old spinster!” I cackled with a snort. “No matter, besides. Me fiddle will keep me cozy.”

  At least that made her laugh again. Still, I could not stop thinking of it . . .

  Deirdre and Fergus!

  Chapter Five

  Over the next half year, me thoughts did wander relent
lessly over that phenomenal vision. Too immersed in me preoccupation with this lad I be to realise that indeed I be behaving in the same manner that I had, thus far, taunted other lasses fer and thought to be quite outlandish.

  Many a time, whenever I could slip away from me chores, I would escape to me valley of flowers, and will meself to be carried away upon the breeze to that very brook whence first I had laid eyes upon his extraordinary face.

  And to me dismay, happen it did not.

  Once though, I did stumble upon a small brook, yet the same as that magical place in me dream ‘twas not. Nonetheless, return to it I would, again and again, to loll 'til the sun descended in the sky, musing upon the vibrantly melodious hues of the glorious sunset, waiting fer the fateful moment the handsome entity of me vision chose to reunite with me in this realm.

  Then, at last— in the way I had not the slightest imagined— it happened!

  Not long ‘twas beyond the anniversary of me thirteenth year, in May. Solemn I be, returning home after once again draining the day away by me brook, hoping against all hope… I be plucking away on me fiddle, when unexpectedly I discerned the tune of me ceil had of late taken on a despairing sound.

  And welcome it, I did not.

  What utter madness this all be! How I have squandered away these days after days, months upon months, in pursuit of some silly dream that means naught! What have I been thinking?! Cannot believe I enabled Deirdre to swaddle me in all this childish nonsense of hers! That girl I not be! THIS girl I be not, as I have been behaving.

  Bring meself back I must, to where I should be, to who I be, to that which I had designed fer me life. And pursuing girlish dreams by a stream ‘twas not! This must come to an end presently! Reach fer that spot once more to daydream, awaiting the enchanted embrace of a disillusioned fantasy, swear I’ll not! All this absurdity henceforth I put behind me, never to look back upon any of it again!

  I twisted away from that place all at once feeling dim, yet unclouded; foolish, yet released; lost, yet found.

  Or so I did believe.

  The rest of me way home I did stagger. Me father caught me where the wild lands meet our pasture, seizing me firmly by the wrist, unsettling all of me sensibly placed emotions, which then muddled collectively in their chaotic mass of turmoil within me.

  “Where hath you been, Cailín?” he demanded, dragging me along at too quick a pace so that I thought I would be dragged.

  Before I had any chance to answer, he snapped, “The whole of this day from here you hath been absent doing God knows what! Might you ever put a thought toward yer family, yer duties?!”

  Heaven knows, I have not the need of this confrontation at present. I be feeling forlorn and foolish enough on me own without another of his scoldings.

  Lowering his voice as we came nearer to the barn, “The tréidlia is here, called upon urgently to tend to this ailing sheep of yers. Hindered him presently you have with yer ceaseless narcissism. We are in need of you to restrain yer animal, so that he may perform his inspection.”

  And as we came around the corner into the dwelling, scarcely could I consider the credibility of that which then be revealed before me eyes! Convinced me mind be merely mocking the oath I had resolutely made with meself scarcely moments before, I nearly refused to believe.

  Fer there at the far end of me father’s barn, stood the actual living, breathing embodiment of me vision, and still more divine than all the countless whiles I had reminisced! And not more than a few metres from me he be! All at once, I felt swept away by a dream-like hallucination, surreal it all be. Me head so light, as though it would suddenly swirl right off me body and drift away upon the breeze. In me chest me breath stalled, very nearly eluding me completely.

  All of a sudden, me father’s sharp tone disturbed the air, threatening to wrench me out of this state of intoxication. Yet, even he could not reach me at this elevation I now soared.

  “Aislinn! What be yer hindrance cailín?” he grumbled. “Quit standing there gaping as an Eejit, and secure yer ewe straightaway!”

  Me father’s belittlement of me in witness of him brought me half the way a return to reality. Immediately, I felt me skin inflame with heat, as all eyes fell upon me. ‘Twas in this disastrous moment I comprehended authentic it all be, he be real, and this not be at all the manner in which I had envisioned our first acquaintance.

  “Quick with you now, lass!” me father incited me impatiently.

  I ambled over to them, carefully deliberating on each step that brought me ever nearer to him. Dare to meet his eyes, I did not, still too humiliated I be. That, at least I did have some control over, and delay I would fer the moment to be more idyllic.

  How peculiar, that our first happenstance should take place such as this. Not at all as I had expected!

  After the most unsettling march of me life thus far, I reached them. Then, the thought occurred, What if all this be fer naught? Perhaps it not be him, after all? I’ll have to raise me eyes to look up at him, to be undeniably sure.

  Me breath ever fleeting, I inhaled deeply as I collected the necessary courage to stare directly upon his face, now with scarcely a half metre between us, as I held me ewe in place fer him and the tréidlia to examine.

  And as I raised me eyes to meet his, in that very instant, me world realised its metamorphosis. His presence rapidly encompassing every fibre of me being instigated me heart to leap out of itself.

  ‘Twas not to be mistaken— he indeed be one and the same as the lad in me vision, there right before me in the flesh! Identical striking form, alluring slightly curled hair, that dazzling face, enveloped in a blue radiance that again be reflected in his tender eyes; the same sweet, shy smile . . . Then, the realization of him returning me gaze struck me, and he smiled back at me, me knees folding upon themselves.

  “O'er, what be the riddle with you, cailín? Pulling shenanigans are you? Have you been supping from the whisky flask?” me father disgraced unendingly, upon notice of me stumble. Grudgingly, I tugged me eyes away from him, and me resolve be recovered by the quick interjection of Dr. O’Connor.

  “Aislinn, be acquainted with Donovan. He is the new apprentice I have of late taken on. Quite a promising young lad he be, possessing a great heart as well as a gentle hand with the animals.”

  Donovan.

  I beamed at once at the fresh knowledge of his name, hearing it spoken fer the first.

  Donovan.

  I replicated the sound of it over and over again in me mind. And I found meself pondering the multitude of ways I might assess the gentleness of those hands.

  “And Donovan, this is Aislinn, the young MacAuliffe lass.” His welcoming smile directed at me once more, instantly sent me back to reeling.

  Striving to not appear inebriated as me father had insinuated, I grinned in response, and then became immediately alert of the ludicrous amplification it must hold. Dreading seeming infantile, compelled to break the awkward silence that gripped me, I blurted out unthinkingly. “How old you be?”

  His lips turning up at the corners, graciously he answered, “Seventeen I be, since April.” Relieved I be that he sounded faintly bemused. “What of you, Aislinn?”

  The marvel at me name resounding from his lips cast me into the illusions of me girlish fantasy once more. His voice, with its low and smooth quality, was intimately comforting to me soul. I found it rather bizarre that so familiar to me it seemed; at once it felt as if I had listened to it all me life. Thankful I be fer his tactful handling of me abrupt gawky probing. Realizing he must wonder why I shillyshallied so, I collected me wits and endeavoured a reply.

  “Fifteen I be, since just the first of this month,” I humbly fibbed, fer fear of the risk of seeming as a child to him.

  However, not a thought had I given to me father’s likely retort to me fib. He leapt at the chance to squelch me contrived maturity in witness of me pending suitor.

  “Do not lie, lass! She be only thirteen, a mere child!” He scowled at me as
I shriveled again mortified. I feared Donovan’s rash disregard of me with this knowledge, of never having the accurate prospect to fathom me fer that which we were predestined.

  I braced meself to look back toward him, imagining his show of repugnance at me childish antics. Yet again to me astonishment, Donovan smiled softly, as if in sympathy to me embarrassment. Me adoration of him deepened in that moment, even as moreover, I questioned whether he did think of me only as a daft child, then.

  “Appears fifteen she does, though, does she not?” he queried warmly of the tréidlia standing next to him.

  “Indeed, she does, Donovan,” Doctor O’Connor replied with a wink in me direction. That restored me to me original condition of elation, as once again me beaming from within became visible upon me face.

  Surprisingly, me father managed to hold his tongue through the rest of their visit, which be over all too soon. Long before I be ready, they were packing up their equipment and bidding us farewell.

  “Lovely ‘twas to make your acquaintance, Aislinn,” Donovan said honestly, offering me a warm smile that melted me heart.

  “Indeed . . . ‘twas,” I stammered, fidgeting nervously. Somehow, ‘twas all I could think of to say, even as so many things I had dashing about in me head.

  “Surely, we’ll meet again in the near future,” he continued on with the chat to me surprise.

  “Aye. Hopefully, one of our sheep will require yer visit again.” The words flew out of me mouth afore I had a chance to come up with something witty to reply.